Uh, yeah. The other night I was trying to sleep on the couch because Mr Man was sick and I couldn’t listen to the snoring and the hacking and sniffling and snorting and throat clearing. So I stomped downstairs and was about asleep when Sharon the Hedgehog decided it was rally race time on his wheel. I got up and took the wheel out, and apparently, sometime that night, he decided to escape. Yes, he had to scale out of a foot high cage, and fall off a 3 foot high piece of furniture, and spent the rest of the night and all of the next day somewhere downstairs! I don’t know how we never noticed, and surely the kids would have found him, they find everything I want them to leave alone.

Anyway, the following evening I decide to stretch out on the floor while we’re watching TV, I move a cushion, flop down and promptly throw myself in the other direction, SCREAMING. I was holding myself off the floor by my fingertips and toenails trying to crane my neck around to see which one of the kids toys is getting thrown out next. And Mr Man tells me “Honey, it’s a hedgehog!” WTF. There’s Sharon rolled into a nasty spiky ball of (self defense) PAIN AND DOOM. Oh poor little bastard!

Poor ME! That really hurts! It took about 10 minutes to coax him out of his ball, and I let him run around on the floor to make sure he wasn’t terribly injured- thankfully he wasn’t. Then I put him and his wheel back in the cage with some froot loops (hedgehog crack) as a peace offering, and put the bloody lid back on.

I assure you, the only animal that was really harmed in this incident was ME. He’s up and eating and drinking and back on his wheel, and other than a little distrustful of fat chicks, he seems to be totally recovered.